Hanging By A Thread, an In Flight Remix
by ahorsewalksintoabar
Summary: Gabriel Blessing's In Flight's premise, but from Heaven's Feel True Shirou. Will diverge heavily from both In Flight, and Sekirei cannon.
1. Chapter 1

**So, ever since GB did the little Mind of Steel snippet I kind of wanted to write this. If you have found this fiction by some means other than Gabriel Blessing's forum then know that this story is based on In Flight, by Gabriel Blessing, which uses characters from Fate/Stay Night and Sekirei to create an extremely good read that I would strongly recommend you look into first. [Edit: Now with more line breaks!]**

IN FLIGHT remix  
Hanging By A Thread

I had experienced far more pleasant flights, I mused, as the line towards the security checkpoint slowly trudged forward. That strange man had talked at me the entire flight, either unaware or uncaring that I had never once been awake for the duration of the three hour flight from Hong Kong to Shin Tokyo. I wasn't sure if it had been a bother or a blessing, considering had the man ever stopped I wasn't sure if any magic short of the Third again would have pulled me out of the deep slumber I was so eager to try out for the first time in three years. Ever since that night I have been unable to sleep, probably because strictly speaking I didn't need it anymore. But all that was over now, it had taken us two years, untold millions of yen, and more danger to his person than he would ever admit to his wife, but he had finally tracked the puppet maker of that first surrogate body of his.

She had run from him for a year before he was able to even speak with her, and when he finally managed to convey to her that he was in fact not trying to kill or capture her because of her Sealing Designation I had nearly wept for joy when she said she would make me a new body. While Sakura had no reservations about my erie timelessness, I found it hard to conduct my business when to all appearances I still looked to be in my second year of high school. It had been an incredible relief when Touko had told me just how far her doll-making had come since my first body, and I had been more than a little amazed at what Touko could reproduce with just the tattered preserved remains of my natural body. I could finally sleep, for one thing.

It was because of this near perfect reproduction of my natural body that I was confident that even this strange new security measure being tried in the immigration office of Shin Tokyo would find nothing out of the ordinary. He had passed through the security checks in Hong Kong without effort after all. I had every confidence that Touko's skill would pass this test as well. And so, confident and in exceptionally good spirits, I did as I was instructed when it was my turn with the strange device.  
A simple chirp from the machine indicated that not all was well, and my good cheer evaporated. The technician gave me an apologetic look that was by this time quite well practiced and bid me to try again. Once again I exhaled on to the strange device, and once again the machine indicated that something was amiss. I knew that the machine wasn't entirely at fault for this turn of events, but even still I couldn't help but hate the strange thing. The new body had just been so perfect, I hadn't even thought twice about what might happen were it to detect something like my body being fake.

"Don't worry Sir, if you would please follow the security personnel to a waiting room we will have an MBI employee figure out what exactly the problem seems to be."  
I nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show on my face. Whatever the strange machine tested it had found me lacking in some way, and this could seriously hamper my travel plans in the future if this annoying little machine became widespread. I made a mental note to inform Touko of the difficulty, all while reviewing what could have caused this, bringing me to an alarming fact. I had no clue what that strange machine was even testing for... They had told me to breathe on the contraption, but beyond that I was baffled. Usually when I needed to understand technology I cheated and used Structural Analysis, but I had never thought to do so on the device. So while walking with my security guard escort, I decided to ask.

"What does that machine do exactly?" I asked with a hint of embarrassment in my voice.

"Do? What it does is give me and everyone else a great big pain in our as ses, that's what it does" came the guard's aggravated reply. Feeling a bit less inclined to push the already irate guard I chuckled an empty laugh before choosing to follow in silence. After I was brought to the small waiting room I turned to address my guard once more before he left, asking: "Do you know how long this might take? You see, I have a train to catch, and if I don't get home on time, well my wife... she worries you see?" While raising my left hand to display the plain metal band that sat comfortably on my ring finger.

The security guard turned to scowl briefly, strangely I felt that the scowl hadn't been for me, before his face regained its impassive demeanor.  
"Sir, I'm sorry for the inconvenience but I really couldn't tell you. I've seen all kinds come in here, from the elderly to children, and even though I can be damn sure gramps and the brats aren't on any international terrorist DNA database, we have to follow protocol. And that takes time, more time than it ought too, but there's nothing I can do. If it were up to me this whole program would have been scrapped before it made it through the door. We have twelve still waiting for that damn MBI tech, thirteen now with you added. I just hope your train doesn't leave soon. Sorry again." Thus having said his piece the security guard turned and exited, leaving me alone in the small room.

*Scene*

The wait was supremely uneventful. I considered trying to sleep, but thought my time might be better spent on other things. Those other things being a mental checklist of why a machine would name me a terrorist, and if it had anything to do with this body that Touko had made. Perhaps she was on that list, and this body was contaminated? I had just the most basic grasp of what DNA testing was, and understood nothing of how the machine that had tested me had worked. But I was fairly sure that Touko's name probably wasn't on any terrorist watch lists, and I doubted even more that they would have any DNA sample from her. It had likely been a simple error, much like what the security guard had ranted about.

*Scene*

When the tired looking MBI technician burst through the door, apologising profusely for the wait, I couldn't help but be polite and forgiving. Faulty equipment was hardly the fault of anyone here, and it was no use for me to vent frustrations upon a man that had already suffered more than his fair share for someone else's mistake. The civility seemed to surprise the man, his apologetic demeanor changing to grateful and then quickly to friendly.  
"Well, we've kept you waiting long enough, let's figure out what exactly went wrong here" he said as he rolled a cart with a portable version of the now hated machine into my small room.

The technician bid me to repeat my performance from earlier, and I obliged. A number of 'Hmmm's' and other minor exclamations later, the man slowly turned to face me, regret clear on his face. "I'm afraid, Emiya-san, that this problem is a little beyond me... I've never seen this error code before, and that means I have to call my superiors about this... I am deeply sorry but could you please help us resolve this problem so that we can make this process easier for everyone involved?"

If the technician had just been less polite, or not used those simple words that invariably got me into trouble I could have gotten angry and made a scene and maybe see my wife tonight, I mused. Nevertheless he had been polite, and he had used those fatal words that always seemed to get me into trouble, even when I knew better.

"Sure, Suzuki-san, but do you mind if I ask for a favor? Since it looks like I may need to be here awhile I really need to call my wife..." and after a brief moment of consideration I added "And could someone fetch my luggage? And some food I suppose... it has been the better part of a day with just airplane food to keep me going."  
"Absolutely, Emiya-san, I'll have an attendant get you a phone that works in these rooms and a menu for one of the onsite restaurants, compliments of MBI, and don't worry about your luggage." The technician said before he bowed low and exited.

True to his word, not five minutes later I was greeted by a small woman rolling my suitcase and carrying a small stack of menus, and trying very hard not to drop the bulky phone that rest on top of them. I thanked her, while relieving her of her small burden, and began to leaf through the menus looking for nothing in particular. After ordering I took the time to properly inspect the phone the attendant had needed to install into the room. It seemed the room had some sort of shielding, preventing cell phones from getting signal, but still had functional land line connections. I supposed that while my case was certainly a mix up these rooms were meant to hold suspected terrorists so a communications lockdown made sense. Dismissing the whole thing, I picked up the phone to call my wife.

The answer came after two rings, and I was greeted by a voice I was glad to hear, even if it wasn't my wife's.  
"Emiya residence, who may I ask is calling?" The voice brought a smile to my lips, and I felt the need to indulge in some spontaneous teasing in a mood I swear must have been summoned by Rin somehow.  
"Ah~, Medu-san~ haven't we talked about this? It's polite to name yourself first when answering the phone, sheesh I know you don't use the phone much, but still, what will I do if a client calls?"

The brief bit of fumbling and squawking that I hear lets me picture the reaction I had been hoping for, using the nickname for Rider that Rin had coined after learning her identity.  
"Shi-Shirou, I- Please don't call me that..." I could practically hear the blush that had formed on Rider's face, and smiled wider despite my knowledge that neither party could see the faces we made.  
"Look, Rider, I have some bad news and some good news, but while I need to say the bad news I would much prefer to save the good news for Sakura in person. Can you tell her that there's been a hold up here at the airport? I've already missed the train for Fuyuki by now, and there won't be another until tomorrow morning."

"Understood, Shirou, if you like I could..." Rider began, but I cut her off.  
"That won't be necessary, Medu-san~ besides I'd hate to put any strain on you or Sakura-hime by having to call on Bell-san."  
Again the tell-tale signs of Rider's embarrassment could be heard in the background, before she spoke again. "How are your reserves? You were out for three weeks..."  
"Don't worry Rider, I'm still perfectly fine, better than fine even, and you'll see why soon, but even if I were running low I always have the amulet Rin lent me, and it's not like I'll need to fight my way back to Fuyuki." Despite myself I chuckled, for it had been some time since I had needed to fight. I still found myself wanting to help whenever humanly possible, but ever since that night, nearly four years ago, Sakura had always come first, which had meant that while I had learned to use much of the fragmented knowledge I still possessed from the frankensteinian merging of my alternate universe future self and the experience gained fighting Heroic Spirits, I had mostly avoided the battlegrounds where that skill and prowess might have gathered attention that could have caused Sakura trouble.

"Come home soon Shirou, Sakura has very much missed you, and so have I." Rider's last words were so quiet I could barely hear them, Rider's shyness getting the better of her. It was only natural, I supposed, it had only been within the last year that Sakura and Rider had really come to terms with their feelings for each other, and for me, a thought which still has me wondering when the world decided to take leave of its senses. Sakura had been so intensely jealous at first, guarding me with a zeal akin to how a drowning woman might grasp a life preserver. And Rider had thought her own feelings for Sakura and I were nothing more than the same protectiveness she had felt for her sisters. It had taken years of awkward moments, slips of the tongue, and constant reassurances for Sakura before Rider had finally told Sakura the extent of her feelings. That had been one of the worst nights of my life, and I had a very large stockpile of bad nights to choose from, some of them half remembered dreams from Archer.

Hanging up the phone, I returned to my seat, and began my silent waiting vigil on the door.

*Scene*

Hours passed. After the first I decided to let myself fall into the familiar habit of cleaning my Reality Marble. Since the events of the Heaven's Feel ritual I had been aware of my Reality Marble, but due to my spiritual linkage to my older self had been unable to truly utilize it. Myself, Sakura and Rin had spent long hours puzzling out what was actually wrong with it, and the answer seemed to come back to how incompatible my own world view was with Archer's. While I had inherited the necessary knowledge to deploy the Reality Marble; the marble itself was a reflection of the user, a window into the soul. Archer's soul was so defined by his willingness to sacrifice for the good of many without regard for himself or those he cared about, that it was incompatible with my own choice to place Sakura and those I love above my ideals.

What it left me with was an incomplete Reality Marble, still capable of storing every bladed weapon I have ever seen (and some only Archer had seen) and capable of calling them into existence through my particular method of Projection, but the true skill, the Unlimited Blade Works, could never fully be called forth into the world in its current state. The reason why was simple, if one saw it as I did; looking into my soul I no longer saw the familiar endless graveyard of swords. Here now the sky seemed to be a paradox, with the sun in every position in the sky while at the same time never where I attempted to find it. The overall effect seemed to display a sky that randomly flitted through the times of the day as I tried to take notice of it. The massive gears that had littered the sky of Archer's Reality Marble had collapsed, taking vast portions of the sky with them that showed in those vast tears a night time scenery like no where on earth. Some of the massive gears had fallen onto the ground, their size dwarfing the landscape, and dizzying to behold. In the center of it all, where once there had stood only a hill marked by a graveyard of swords, there now grew an impossibly large tree, a Sakura tree in perpetual bloom, the soft pink petals falling to the red rust ground and onto countless blades.

This was the world Archer had built, and the world Sakura had changed. I knew Unlimited Blade Works might one day be fully realized, but at the moment, the two worlds were still in conflict. I could feel it, at the edges of my soul, where the horizon met the sky I could still see Archer's world. In those border places were swords I have yet to see, memories I have yet to delve, and horrors I did not want to face.

A hauntingly familiar scent roused me from my meditation, a scent that reminded me strangely enough of my own corpse, when they had finally found it inside the collapsed cave, with a strange addition as if it were coated in honey, nearly masking the scent of decay, each of these strange scents were almost entirely dwarfed by the scent of blood so thick that it could only belong to one person.

I smiled somewhat ruefully, preparing the minor scolding I would have to give to Rider for coming all this way despite what I told her. The first scent caught me off guard, but the second let me slip back into the comfortable lull of inaction. Whatever that first thing was it was unlikely to bother me, and even if it did it would have a whole world of surprises in store when it tried to tangle with a Heroic Spirit and a pseudo-ex-Counter Guardian.

Imagine my surprise when the source of both scents entered into my room at once, resolving into a single being, and certainly not the one I had been expecting. I was so confounded by this change that I very nearly missed the second figure to walk into the room, pushing a third example of the now loathed machine.

I could have sworn that with their entrance the temperature dropped by several degrees.

*Scene*

The first female to enter the room was tall by Japanese standards, maybe only a few centimeters shorter than myself, which would have made her positively amazonian in the eyes of most given my own height was a bit above Japanese average. Her hair was a pale grey, but lustrous and healthy in a way that naturally occurring human grey hairs never seemed to have. Sharp eyes embedded on a face that would have been undeniably gorgeous had her lips not been plastered with a frown of annoyance met my own for a moment before sweeping the room in a casual but practiced manner. She wore a simple military style white coat over a black dress shirt that met its match at her hip, smoothly transitioning into a thin pencil skirt before revealing creamy white skin where the skirt met supermodel quality thigh before quickly disappearing underneath more black thigh high stockings. Her figure could have set an army to sail in Rider's day, but my attention was focused like a laser on the conspicuous addition to the ensemble resting at her waist.

Ninety-nine centimeters of the finest titanium-carbon monocrystal superalloy I had ever laid eyes on waited patiently within a high tech sheathe, and even then I could tell that its owner was no stranger to the sword. But without a proper look at the blade I couldn't get much more than it's material composition and traces of intent, even so the knowledge of the blade's material composition gave me an uncomfortable piece of information, as this blade was capable of withstanding stresses no human could ever hope to create, and yet, there, twenty centimeters from the tip of the blade, infinitesimally small stress fractures existed visible only in my mind's eye. Whatever this thing appeared to be, she was most certainly not human.

Following close behind her inhuman companion was a woman of slightly above average height, dwarfed as she was by her company. Like her associate she too had grey hair, which I at first assumed to mean she shared a heritage with her erstwhile guardian, but even as my magical sense of "smell" became accustomed to the first woman's presence no new hints of magecraft were noticeable. Moreover unlike her companion she, while being rather attractive, did not possess the nearly legendary beauty of her compatriot. She also lacked the timeless quality that the first grey haired woman seemed to have, giving a more definite impression of age. I would probably have thrown my best guess to be roughly late thirties, possibly early forties. She also wore a white coat, but this one looked less like a military style and more like a lab coat, buttoned in the front to cover her from neck to knee in white fabric.

I suppose it was the arrival of the machine that kept me mostly calm in the face of this strange new supernatural presence. Whatever else was going on, at the very least this whole debacle still seemed to center around the strange device, although why this strange creature was standing in the room before me was still a mystery. I tried to keep a positive outlook, after all I lived with Rider and thus was no stranger to beings of great power smelling like the vital fluid, but the honey sweet smell vaguely reminded me of the one Dead Apostle hunt I had found myself in when some pompous Clocktower noble having felt slighted by Rin's apprenticeship had managed to maneuver Rin into one of the more dangerous hunts conducted by that psychotic Woman-who-shall-not-be-named. Sakura and I had been so worried that I had left to act as her bodyguard for nearly a month, leaving Rider to keep Sakura safe.

I will remember that month as the third worst in my entire life, and I pray that nothing ever usurps its position. That Edelfelt woman had been the most grating person I had ever met, constantly competing with Rin, trying to seduce me in the mistaken hope that it would bother Rin, although I will say that when I found out earlier this year that Rin and Luvia were an item I couldn't stop laughing for days. Really looking back I should have seen the signs. Anyway I was almost glad when we arrived at the small eastern european town the Apostle had destroyed, then I saw the children, shambling forward with those hungry eyes. Some looked like they had been torn in half before joining the ranks of the living dead. Those were the easy ones, so twisted, so clearly dead, so far beyond hope that it was almost easy to write off any hope of salvation. It was the ones that still looked human, the ones that seemed so full of life, so normal, that they could approach, crying and screaming for their parents, breaking into wicked grins of feral hunger when a poor soul came to help. Killing them had felt like pulling teeth with a jackhammer. What kept me on edge was the smell of death, covered with sweetness or not, this thing reeked of power, power I was unfamiliar with.

"Hello, are you here to -" I tried to greet the two who walked in, but before I could finish my sentence the woman in professional attire pushing the DNA scanner cut me off.  
"Cut the crap."  
"Pardon?" More than slightly taken aback by the second woman's opening remark I bit back; "Your scanner delays me for what - six hours now? And the first thing you say to me when you come in here is 'cut the crap'? What the he-"  
I was unable to finish my retort as before I began my third sentence the older more professionally dressed woman whose MBI identification hanging from her neck professes her to be one Assistant Director Sahashi Takami gave a curt gesture to her inhuman associate that set her to draw her weapon.  
"Karasuba." The name was spoken as a command, eliciting an immediate, lightning fast response. In half the time it would have taken to blink an eye the woman had drawn her sword, wonder alloy appearing every bit like regular steel, and with a slight itching sensation I took stock of its new position lightly pressed against the flesh of my neck just above my adam's apple.  
"Now, I'm asking the questions here, and if I hear answers I don't care for Karasuba here is going to make that six hour wait feel like a walk in the park. First, who are you working for?"

I took a moment to consider what exactly was happening before my eyes. The seemingly human woman was giving the definitely inhuman woman orders, odd but not inconceivable. The woman (Karasuba I mentally appended) had drawn her sword on me on Takami's orders, and had done so not just unflinchingly but with what I now saw to be a vicious grin, that could be trouble. They seemed to be unaware of who I was, but the line of questioning was strikingly familiar to the times I had been accused of spying on the governments of one or two middle eastern countries I had admittedly been spying on. I chose to answer honestly, in the hope that this might be some sort of mistaken identity case. Besides, the eyeful of miraculous steel analog her inhuman companion held was enough to placate my annoyance at being detained, I had after all suffered more abuse for less.

"I'm self employed."  
"Karasuba, he seems to not understand your purpose here, demonstrate please." Takami spoke in a positively glacial tone.  
"Happily." Came the reply, fractions of a second before Karasuba's hand found my face in a way that made me absolutely certain this woman couldn't be human. I would place Karasuba's weight somewhere in the area of sixty kilos soaking wet, I on the other hand am roughly one hundred and nine kilos, somewhat heavier than I look due to my body's unique composition. Needless to say no normal human even close to sixty kilos could have slapped me with enough force to throw me into the opposite wall.  
"Karasuba, next time you hit him that hard make sure not to hit his head, we need to know what he's doing here and who sent him. Which means if he can't talk because of a broken jaw or a fractured skull we have squat."

Karasuba looked at her hand with a measure of surprise before regaining her composure and blithely replying.  
"Yeah yeah, Director, besides I had this feeling that he's got a thick skull."  
"Yeah... Director... My wife says the same thing all the time..." I groaned, pushing myself from the floor and silently thanking Touko for constructing such a sturdy body.  
"I really hope you're not some sort of masochist. I'm not prepared for some sicko enjoying pain, it ruins my fun." Karasuba replied.  
"No worries on that end then, I can't stand pain" considering I can turn my own pain reception off entirely "and really, every hit just makes me more money when your Director over then realizes what a mistake this is." I casually reply.

Twisting a delicate wrist up to bring a slim index finger to her lower lip Karasuba makes a pouting expression that would drive an idol green with envy. "Director, I think I don't loathe this one. Can I keep him? I wonder what kind of noises he'd make if I crushed the bones in his hand phalanges by phalanges, how long would it take to break that cocky attitude?"  
The way she said it gave me the distinct impression that she'd tried it before. No matter, living with Rider had given me a measure of immunity to threats centered on sadism, it was almost cute really, given how out of her depth this creature was.  
I had gotten a good look at her blade. I had seen countless hours training on equipment tested to endure the heaviest punishment an Abrams main battle tank could dish out, and with that blade she had cut through it like butter. Countless men had died by that blade, and yet I didn't have the slightest doubt in my mind that I could kill her before she even thought to raise her blade.

Arrogance.

Ignorance.

She had only ever fought mundane humans. Guns, missiles, tanks, aircraft, these were the only threat she felt a human could bring to bear against her, and even then she knew with absolute certainty that she was faster than any threat. It would be child's play to call forth Gae Bolg while she wondered just what this puny human could do with a spear in such close quarters. With two words she'd be impaled, inevitably, impossibly if need be, and she wouldn't even comprehend how. It was all I needed to relax once again and let this strange situation carry itself out, secure in the knowledge that if this interrogation turned sour it would hardly be more than an exercise in hiding bodies.

With a labored sigh, the Director spoke. "Karasuba, you can do whatever you like with him after we have the information we need. Now you, whatever your name is, if you cooperate and talk I'll make sure Karasuba doesn't get her wish." Karasuba's contemplative expression fell as Takami finished her sentence resuming it's previous scowl.  
"You're no fun Director."  
Picking myself up off the ground while I spoke I moved to retake my seat. "My name is Emiya Shirou, and while I appreciate your supposed need for intimidation right now, I can tell you it won't do you a gram of good. I don't work for anyone because I'm self employed, I own a repair shop in Fuyuki City, I'm returning from Hong Kong after meeting with a business associate. I got pulled in here by your broken machine, missed my train home, and now my wife has to go home alone for another night while you sit there asking me stupid questions."

The two women spared a glance at me before looking at each other, somewhat perplexed.  
"Are you going to sit there completely calm, and tell me you aren't some government operative? After Karasuba's knocked you across the room and you don't even flinch? You're either suffering a serious concussion, or completely insane." Takami said, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms while pinning me with an intense glare. Karasuba however seemed to be having difficulty keeping her giggling in check, as she held a hand over her mouth whispering. "Re-Repair man... heh oh man, balls of steel at least."  
"Look me up, Emiya Repairs, I just paid an old classmate of mine to make one of those website thingies. Swore up and down it'd bring in new customers. My picture's there, I think. Old though, from back when I first bought the place right after high school. As for the other matter, I'm a freelance photographer when I get the time, I've been to African hell-holes and border skirmishes in the Middle East. A supermodel with an attitude is easily one of the more pleasant interrogators I've had."

Again both women gave me strange looks, before Takami set to work on her small tablet computer while Karasuba began to stare with a fascination that would have been arousing were I not aware of her sadistic nature and happily married. While Takami tapped away Karasuba took the opportunity to speak.  
"War Photography? What, repairing cars not good enough for you? You got some creepy obsession with taking pictures of dead people?" I took note of how her tone lacked even the hint of derision her words implied.  
"Not at all. I want to help people. As much as I want too, one man just can't stop a war. It just isn't possible" which is why Archer got himself in so deep "so I try and show the world what happens. I try and make people wake up to the reality of men, women and children dying senselessly. I take pictures because while it is impossible for one man to end a war, if I can show enough people what they want to ignore, if I can get them to see what's happening, then maybe I can make a difference."

Karasuba's mouth twitched through a surprising variety of expressions as she heard my reasoning, before once again settling on a snicker that she quickly covered.  
"Super Repair Man, this is just too rich. Next you'll say you're moonlighting as some sort of Superhero..."  
Fixing me with another hard stare Takami lowered her computer and said "Karasuba, quit joking. You said your name was Emiya right? I found the repair shop but you made a mistake trying to justify your cool, there's no one employed for any publishing company named Emiya Shirou, and there never has been. So once again. Who are you?"  
"Like I said, my name is Emiya Shirou. You won't find my name under any publishers payroll because I use an alias for all my photography. Look for Archer Smith. Thats the name I use for the associated press."

A scowl and a number of swift taps later Takami looked up from her machine.  
"So, what, how do I know you're actually who you say you are?"  
"Aside from showing you my passport, my train ticket to Fuyuki, or my commercial commerce licence for my garage, you mean?"  
"Ah, the first should suffice." Came a rather more nervous than expected reply.  
"Wait. It was good as far as covers go Director, I'll give him that, but are you really telling me you believe this guy?"  
"Karasuba, the tax records for this garage go back two and a half years. The photography career of Archer Smith is the same, I pulled school records, and one Emiya Shirou graduated around that time, I've got airline records that he's bought tickets to Hong Kong, South Africa, Turkey, and even London. His family registry's a bit odd but his marriage checks out. Even the train tickets check out. This passport's the real deal, and if all of that wasn't enough- look here." Takami spoke while lifting the tablet to show Karasuba an image she had pulled from my garage's website, there I was, standing inside my garage, grinning like an idiot with Sakura by my side. The image alone was enough to get me smiling, mirroring the tablet.

Looking slightly dumbfounded, switching from the picture on the tablet to myself, Karasuba seemed to finally relent, pushing herself into a nearby chair with a cross expression and crossed arms. "Fine then, take all my fun. But now we have to pay him off. It'd be so much easier if I just killed him." She harumphed before leaning back in her chair, balancing perfectly on two legs.  
"Right... about that..." Takami seemed to turn a slight shade of green as she reflected back on the events of the utterly unnecessary interrogation.  
"Look. As much as I wouldn't mind another source of income, you came here to fix a machine. I still haven't gotten a straight answer about what the hell caused all this. And ultimately I just want this over with. So what exactly is this special error that got me in so much trouble?" I asked some of the irritation I felt leaking into my voice.

"Ah. Of course, well, it's somewhat complicated, but essentially these machines are still prototypes. We only just loaded the criminal DNA databank from Interpol less than a month ago onto the machines, and in our rush we left the test databank on the machine. The machines were all tested using MBI employees, and every employee MBI has is in that databank. The error code we received registered you as a partial match for two different employees at MBI, as you can imagine that should be impossible unless you..." Takami began to trail off as she explained to me the reason this whole mess had started. She seemed to lose all color as she slowly turned to look back at me, wide eyed.

"Mr. Emiya, could you please breathe one more time into the device? I need to be sure of something." I noted with some alarm that her hands were shaking as she worked the controls of the accursed device. Even so I did as I was instructed, once more breathing into the sensor and saying my name. A familiar beep heralded the silence that fell while Takami stared at the diagnostic screen of the machine. Half formed expressions warred for dominance on the woman's face as Karasuba, seemingly bored with the silence, turned to sarcastically remark, "Found some long lost kid of some researcher's secret love tryst? Don't tell me- the red hair, the height, I bet he's Horaki's over in accounting right? But who's the father? From what I hear it could have been half the department." Karasuba snickered, but Takami's reaction cut her short.

"Not another word Karasuba. Not now..." a longer than normal pause later "Shirou? I was looking at your family registry and it said you were added to the Emiya household when you were eight years old. Why?"

Somewhat nonplussed by the use of my first name, I answered candidly "I was adopted. My father found me after the Fuyuki fire and took me to the hospital. I'd suffered serious burns and had what the doctors called trauma induced memory loss, I woke up and all I knew was my name. When no one came to claim me Emiya Kiritsugu adopted me as his only son. Why? Karasuba said something about finding children? Did my parents work for MBI before the fire?" Suddenly aware of the potential bombshell this machine was giving me, my voice became strained as my questions became more frantic.

Takami had gone whiter than a sheet, listening to my explanation, seemingly ignoring my frantic tone while she breathed noticeably heavier, struggling to control herself. Karasuba looked annoyed, either at being ignored or being told to be silent, and stood. Moving around to look over Takami's shoulder at the diagnostic screen she too seemed to pause while she digested some piece of information, before breaking out into guffaws of belly deep laughter.

"YOU-" words formed from desperate attempts to cease her laughter "He's YOUR kid?" Trying and failing to contain her mirth I found myself flabbergasted while Karasuba spoke. "I guess that explains the crazy." With a new bout of laughter Karasuba sank back into her chair laughing like a woman possessed.

Confused, and bewildered as I was I didn't miss what happened next. Overpowering even the scent next to me a coppery tang assaulted my nose, even as I held my breath waiting for the confirmation of this impossible new information. It was so strong I wondered how I could have possibly mistaken this thing near me for her, my Medusa, Sakura's Rider. Either by my own laser focus on the door or by some mystic sense she possessed Karasuba's head turned to focus on the door an instant before Rider opened it with all the speed of a gunshot. If as that sick old bastard Makiri believed the Third really makes one immortal then I will never in a thousand lifetimes forget Rider's face of stricken panic as she zeroed in on my face and said with a note of emotion I have never heard before "Sakura's been hurt!"

And like a switch being flipped in my head my concerns about parentage were immediately dispelled. The world slowed to a crawl as I rapidly brought myself to the maximum tolerance of my body's reinforcement limit, unsatisfied with even that, I brought to mind a sword that would push me far beyond the limits of anything seen since the Age of the Gods. Berserker's Axe-club, an impossibly heavy and improbably large chunk of alchemically treated temple in the form of a crude single edged blade had nevertheless been used in battle by the demigod himself. I knew his impossible strength, his unfathomable speed, and right now more than anything I needed to be where Sakura was. Still even in my haze of desperation I knew creating the massive weapon in the confines of the room would be in poor judgement, so I stole a trick from the remnants of Archer- I adjusted the scale of the weapon when reproducing its accumulated years, costly in terms of prana and detrimental to the power and speed imparted, but an expenditure I gladly paid. The once gigantic sword now fit inside the palm of my hand, and since I was clutching tightly was completely concealed.

Rising from my seat with the speed and power of the greatest hero of Greece I saw the beginning of a drawing motion from Karasuba, her focus still firmly on the intruding figure of Rider. Action proceeded thought as my fist clutching the tiny sword streaked of its own accord into the nearby threat, landing with a thunder like crack against her cheekbone. I didn't stop to see where she landed after that, my feet already moving at near sonic speeds to keep up with Rider, I was burning prana like a small star moving at this speed. It took the two of us roughly forty five seconds to exit the airport, and barely half a minute later I was streaking through the sky on the back of a pegasus at speeds in excess of a thousand kilometers an hour.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: Ok, so chapter 2. This has been pretty hard on me to write, and took me both less and more time than I expected. I managed to get a few good solid chunks of writing done far faster than I expected, but then hit a few walls. Really, this chapter is another cliffhanger chapter, which wasn't exactly what I wanted to do but it ended up being the best place to end this particular part. I want to say that I don't and won't have a regular update schedule for this Fic. a lot really depends on my work schedule, how I'm feeling, and how good I feel about writing. Some days I pound out four thousand words in an evening, some days I agonize over a paragraph until I feel sick. Reviews have helped. I managed this chapter as quickly as I have almost entirely thanks to your positive feedback. It's nice to know you all appreciate my fanfic of a fanfic. Also, I've tried to get some spacing between paragraphs as that seemed to be a major complaint, and I went back and did the same for chapter 1.

Now to more serious matters. This fic is rated M. and this means it will have adult content, including but not limited to graphic descriptions of: Violence, and Sex and Sexual acts. If this offends you or you are not able to handle such content, you are strongly advised to seek your fiction elsewhere. While I can say with confidence that this chapter is probably the raunchiest thing I've ever written and will be the most sexually explicit chapter in the whole fic, that does not mean similar situations won't come up again. If any of this offends you or you feel you cannot handle this, please, stop reading now.

With all that said, on with the chapter.

* * *

After three years without sleep waking up was like reuniting with an old friend. The ever-present stream of thought that had been my existence until now was gratefully punctuated by the momentary lapse that was the last night.

It also accompanied a new revelation, as my spirit reconnected with all of the various parts of my body I was treated to the familiar sensation of warm flesh pressing against my left arm. Lying in the shared futon, I let my senses swim in the return of information, basking in the warmth of my company. Shifting her purple tresses out of her face, the woman at my side all but demanded my attention, and so I turned my head to look her in the eyes.

Medusa's eyes may never lose their novelty for me. With her small framed glasses primly perched on her cute nose Rider looked back into my eyes somehow communicating more emotion than I had ever seen, and just as quickly as it had come it was gone. Left in its place was the stoic, beautiful, and slightly aloof look I had come to find far too appealing for a woman who once claimed to be a monster.

Shifting slightly so that my free right arm could move around to stroke Rider's cheek I took the opportunity to pull her slightly closer with my left. Lightly brushing Rider's lips with my finger I studied her face, slightly curious about what had caused that strange moment. Medusa took my finger's presence as an invitation, giving my proffered digit a light peck before gingerly catching my finger between her teeth and sending her pink tongue to flick at the tip.

I knew all too well how this encounter might go if I let Medusa take the initiative so instead I asked the question that had been on my mind since waking.  
"Rider, where's Sakura?"  
Pouting slightly at the invitation I had just denied Medusa brought her bespectacled crystal-grey orbs back to mine before answering, finger still gently trapped.  
"'it'hen"  
Frowning slightly I pulled my finger free from Medusa's grasp before things got sillier. While living with the Goddess-turned-monster had certainly disillusioned me to some of the initial impressions I had formed during the nightmare weeks of the Grail War, there were still aspects of her personality I really didn't understand. Like this one; Rider talks with her mouth full. It had completely baffled me the first time it happened, utterly destroying my train of thought. Much like it was derailing my current train of thought.  
"What?"  
A flicker of annoyance passed Rider's face before settling once more into the calm mask of indifference. Looking back to my finger hovering only inches away she barked her reply before leaning into the offending digit and once more biting down, still playfully but with a noticeable increase in force.  
"The kitchen."  
Satisfied that she had answered my question Rider took the opportunity to bite down even harder using her sharp canine teeth to draw blood, which she then gently caressed with her tongue. I knew she was just tasting my prana so I willed a bit more than I normally would have into my finger.

* * *

Desperation fueled by anger pushed me forward into the hallway clearly marked as 'Do Not Enter'. She was there, the love of my life, lying on that table. There were machines everywhere. I didn't have a clue what any of them did, save for the screen with what must have been heart rate information. Doctors and Nurses stared at me in mute horror, crowded around her mangled form. 'I shouldn't be here' they said. Fuck them.

* * *

The look on Rider's face as the prana charged blood met her tongue flashed from surprise to ecstasy before settling in to blissful contentment. I let her drink some of my prana for a few moments before redirecting the prana into some of my body's self repair spells. Rider opened her eyes to refocus on me before I pulled my finger free depriving her of her snack. Sensing my intent she placed her hands underneath her and pushed up off the ground where the futon lay, revealing herself in all her glory.

As I pushed my own body out from under the warm covers I watched her casually saunter over to the closet and pick out from among her favorites a wardrobe I had gotten very familiar with. Black jeans with a dark purple turtleneck, without panties or a bra. I knew it irked Sakura that Rider managed to get away with that arrangement, but I guess Servants just don't get back pain.

Moving my own naked self behind her I stated my intent while drawing a finger down the spine of her back.  
"I'm going to give Sakura a proper good morning, breakfast might be, well, dishevelled."  
"Mmmh, is that what that little boost was for? Well, good. Your wife's missed you too much while you were gone. It's only right you give her your full attention, so no training today." The words left her mouth with Rider's customary sultry tone, but something seemed off. Was that a hint of regret I heard? Pushing the thought from my mind I moved away and to the sliding door.

Still naked I strolled through my home, intent on finding the kitchen and the heavenly smell I could now smell wafting from it. Carefully sliding the door to the living room open I spied Sakura busy at work behind the counter of the joined kitchen. With stealth born from years of practice I crept my way in, just out of Sakura's line of sight. Carefully positioning myself behind her I approached, making sure to be completely silent. Sakura was busy dicing carrots for a side dish when I was close enough to wrap my arms around her. Briefly tensing she made a small noise of surprise before relaxing fully into my embrace.

She craned her neck back and around to look at me and I took that opportunity to steal her lips for the first time that day. Her lips were soft like the cherry petals of her namesake, and slightly moist. My hands wrapped around her hips and pulled her in closer, her butt pressed against my naked manhood, her long purple locks trapped between her shoulderblades and my bare chest. Sakura moved to set her cutlery down as she seemed to notice my nudity, her eyes flashing first with surprise before closing in delight. Our kiss became more passionate as my tongue danced along her lower lip only to be met in turn with Sakura's own. We stayed like that, tongues fencing and dancing with each other for what seemed like minutes.

Eventually I started to notice Sakura trying to make soft moans of desire through our lip-locked embrace, followed shortly after by tantalizing gyrations of her hips against my naked crotch. I slowly broke our kiss and Sakura lazily opened her eyes, unmitigated desire clearly etched into her features.  
"Good morning Sakura-hime."  
"I love you."  
Sakura had spoken still half in a daze, half lidded eyes still clouded with lust but I knew it was no mere platitude, no simple phrase. She loved me with every fiber of her being and her words, drunk with passion or not, lifted my spirits to impossible heights every time I heard them.

* * *

There were things in the periphery of my senses, people some small portion of my mind noted with clinical antipathy. They didn't matter. One of them was trying to pull me somewhere. I did not move. How could I? All of my being was focused on the vaguely recognisable figure of a woman lying on the table in front of me. Nothing else mattered. Something among the vast array of machines beeped in regular time, a good thing my addled mind attempted to inform me. But nothing seemed to really penetrate the thick cloud that fogged my mind. That woman, missing a leg, the other attached only by a tiny thread of tissue, torso horribly mangled, ribcage partially exposed, she could only be a figment of my worst nightmares. It couldn't possibly be real.

* * *

I kept my position, standing behind Sakura, hands on her hips while I moved to whisper in her ear.  
"We can't neglect breakfast now can we? Don't worry, I'll take care of everything, you just focus on making breakfast."

Now I will admit that I'm not the master of seduction, but I know Sakura. The kitchen of the Emiya household is something of a special place to her. It was where I had spent hours teaching her how to cook, where I had spent the most time with her before the Grail War turned both our lives upside down. Sakura told me once that while it might have been my attempts to clear a high jump bar that had made her want to know me, it had been my instruction in my kitchen that had firmly cemented her love for me. Sure it sounds old fashioned, but Sakura loved 'her' kitchen almost as much as she loved Rider. After I proposed to her she had officially claimed the kitchen to be her space, forbidding me from cooking unless I was teaching her a new recipe I had picked up in my travels. Sakura took cooking for me very, very seriously. Which is why when I suggested she continue cooking breakfast she moved back to the counter, and began to resume the task I had distracted her from before.

Smiling I stepped up to the counter just behind her, keeping my hands firmly on her shapely hips. I rested my chin on her shoulder for a brief second, watching as her hands skillfully worked the knife in smooth practiced motions. My left hand drifted up slightly from her hip to graze her stomach just below the navel, fingers playing lightly across her milky skin, tracing indistinct shapes along the surface of the skin. My right rose higher still to brush aside a curtain of violet hair, exposing the flesh of her neck. Moving with deliberate slowness I string a series of kisses down her neck, maneuvering my right hand back down to slide along the outside of her thigh.  
"Shirou..."  
The tone of her voice indicated that my ministrations were having their intended effect, and I let my eyes dart over her shoulder again to spy her hands, paused in the midst of her preparations.  
"Breakfast will take all day at this rate Hime."  
The verbal taunt was quickly followed by a physical one, my left hand traversing downwards and bypassing the boundary of Sakura's skirt, slipping by through the narrow space between skirt and panties. As my hand curved inward to rub Sakura's womanhood I noted with no small sense of satisfaction that even through the satin material of her panties I could feel her slick with desire. I resumed my gentle caress in this new location and listened to Sakura's increasingly heavy breathing as I nibbled lightly upon her ear.

I let my left hand continue it's vaguely circular pattern of rubbing while I used my right hand to firmly direct Sakura to spread her legs a bit more than shoulder width apart. Sakura had already dropped her current task, and was beginning to once again gyrate her hips into my engorged manhood, heedless of the articles of clothing that separated us. With my right hand having completed its task I set it towards a new target, while Sakura moaned in pleasure in time to each gentle circle my left hand made.

After one last nibble on the lobe of Sakura's ear I sank to my knees, extracting my left hand while my right pulled its target with me, leaving Sakura without her skirt. Getting a clear look at my handiwork thus far I smiled a grin born seeing the evidence of my love's pleasure. Clear fluid stained the simple white string panties, creating a noticeably soggy patch where each cleft of her inner thigh met. I let the sight and smell of Sakura's sex entrance me for a moment before I began to kiss along her inner thighs, working my way upwards. My hands reached to her sides, plucking the simple ties that kept the panties hugging her marvelous frame.

* * *

She was still alive, somehow. Despite the horrific damage I could see, my thaumaturgical sense of smell was overwhelmed by the scent of her magecraft. It pushed me forward. It drove me with an almost animal instinct, I needed to help her, I needed to protect her somehow. I needed to be able to think. I needed to do something. In that moment of panic I remembered an event from a literal lifetime ago. Rin had used a mass of prana to heal me after my heart had been destroyed by Lancer. I had six of Rin's prana charged gems left on me after using two to sustain the godspeed I had used to leave the airport in Shin Tokyo, each roughly the equivalent of a B- spell. The massive amount of prana I could smell in the air must have been Sakura's own attempt to heal the damage unconsciously. If I could augment her efforts with my own and the gems there might still be hope.

* * *

Sakura's panties hung limply from the damp patch that concealed her womanhood, my hands slowly peeling away the interposed clothing article to a shuddering gasp from Sakura. Lightly casting the soiled undergarment towards the skirt, I brought my methodical kissing closer and closer to Sakura's exposed sex. Quite literally dripping with excitement Sakura brought her hands down to curl her fingers into my hair. My own hands gripping her buttocks lightly, I brought my lips forward to kiss Sakura's lower lips lightly at first, before I began using my tongue to stroke slowly up and down the length of her dark pink sex.

My efforts were met with increasingly louder moans of pleasure as Sakura's fingers began to clutch my hair and press my head harder into her loins. Taking my cue to stop teasing her, I settled my oral focus on the spot just below where her labia converged, forming a fleshy hood for her most sensitive place. Using gentle swirls of the tongue I could feel Sakura's grasp on my hair slacken and tighten in sync with my efforts. I repositioned my left hand, still slick with fluids, to probe the entrance of her vagina. I was immediately rewarded with Sakura's heady moan of pleasure, and her soft voice intoning "please". In response I plunged two fingers into her, moving them inside her as if I were tickling her. Accordingly I changed the action of my tongue, licking more and more as if her clitoris was a cone of ice cream rather than a nexus of pleasure, even sucking the small protrusion lightly. Sakura let out a low moan now, and I could feel her legs struggling to keep her on her feet, thankfully I had already considered this and used my right arm to prop Sakura in her current position, holding her steady. My forethought proved quite necessary as a spasmodic contraction felt by the fingers of my left hand confirmed what my ears were hearing from Sakura's voice, leaving the woman without the strength to stand and thus resting entirely on my outstretched arm.

"I... Love... You..." Sakura gasped between breaths as she tried her best to get her wits back in order. I just smiled and brought my right arm and by extension Sakura down to rest on the crumpled material of her skirt.  
"I know."  
Looking into her purple eyes with every ounce of my love on display I gently set her down on her back. Mindful of my rather soaked left hand I used my right again to remove the soft pink blouse Sakura wore, looking with undisguised lust over her beautiful form. With her breasts still contained within her bra I took a moment to press my head into her bountiful bosom. Her arms wrapped around my head and held me there while I listened to the sound of her heart beat.  
"Shirou, can you promise me something?"  
"Anything." I reply, not even a second wasted on thought.  
"Shirou, I want you to promise me, no matter what happens, no matter how long you might live, you won't throw your life away. You need to love and be loved." Her voice was soft, almost sad.  
"That's why I have you Hime. I will always love you, and I know you'll always love me. As long as I have that I'd never throw anything away. Ever. You are my treasure, my universe. I would never abandon you."

"That's not what I mean, Shirou, I... I don't know how long... I don't know how long you might live with your connection to the Third magic. You might not be a fully spiritual being like Rider but we have no idea what effect your soul being anchored to the world will have. You could live for centuries. And I won't let you be miserable. I love you too much to know that should you outlive me that you would throw your life away. I can't stand the thought of you not being happy. So promise me, you promise me that if you live longer than me that you will try to find another happiness."  
Pulling my head away from her chest to look into her eyes I saw the worry painted across her face. She truly did want me to be happy even if I managed to outlive her, and while the concept of life without Sakura was utterly alien to me I knew I needed to assuage her worries now if I wanted to keep this day in good spirits.  
"I promise."  
Besides it wasn't as if I didn't have years of research ahead of me to figure out a way to either safely transition back into normal humanity or give Sakura an equally long life. We had barely scratched the surface of what the Third True Magic, however incomplete, had really done to my soul.  
"Now, Emiya Shirou, you are going to take that massive erection between your legs and you're going to make love to me until I can't walk. Do you understand?" Gone was the look of concern, gone was the hint of sadness. All that remained was the insatiable lust I knew and loved. And loved I did.

Breakfast that afternoon was a simple affair. Steamed rice and reheated fish, slightly burned. Rider spent most of the meal leering at the two of us, snickering and grinning between mouthfuls at Sakura's complete inability to even sit upright unassisted, and my own slightly pained expression as I thought of the wasted side dishes.  
"Cho, had hun?" Rider began conversationally, still chewing on a morsel of rice. Really. Sometimes I wondered just how she managed the stoic and aloof character so well.  
"Yes, Rider, we had fun. Sakura-hime deserved a proper greeting after so long"  
Sakura's face was too flushed to really show any sort of embarrassment even though I knew she still had difficulty talking about our sex life. It was cute really, considering how insatiable she could be. Even with our morning activities I knew she would be eager and ready to repeat the experience later tonight, probably pulling Rider into the mix too.

"Uuhmmm" Sakura's insensate reply followed mine after a few seconds, her eyes seeming to come in and out of focus on the table and food in front of us. She looked absolutely gorgeous, purple hair slightly tousled, clothes worn in a haphazard fashion, with an expression of simple bliss etched onto her face. She looked slightly drunk, now that I gave her a closer inspection, with the poor coordination to match. Her normally deft hands struggled to operate her chopsticks, repeatedly failing in her attempts to separate a piece of fish from the greater whole. Looking sideways to me, she finally noticed my cheerful scrutiny, and decision crawled across her face. The drunken stare moved from my eyes, to my mouth, and then down to my hands currently in the middle of bringing another morsel of rice to my lips.

"Y- You. Feed me. Take responsibility for this." As the final word left Sakura's mouth she brought her chopstick laiden hand to the forefront of my view, displaying the complete mess that was her fine motor coordination skills as the motion caused one of her utensils to fly from her grasp. I watched with barely restrained mirth as the free flying instrument landed squarely in Rider's rice bowl. Rider glanced at the offending utensil in slight surprise before gingerly picking it up and placing it back on Sakura's side of the table. Sakura however had not even noticed the missing chopstick, nor its impromptu flight. She continued giving me her devastatingly cute 'determined stare' even as my fake resolve broke down. Truthfully I enjoyed pampering Sakura whenever I could, but she made the cutest faces when I pretended to hold out.  
"Alright, alright, say Ahhn Hime" I said as I used my own chopsticks to pick up the portion of fish that Sakura had earlier demonstrated difficulty with. Lifting the food to Sakura's mouth my offer was met with an adorable little 'Ahhn' forming from her open mouth as she closed her eyes.

"Now I'm jealous." Rider's pout flashed across her face, before being replaced by a predatory grin.  
"Should have thought of that before you ate all your food." I replied, still gently feeding my wife.  
Medusa's harumph would have sounded cold and aloof had I not known her for three years. In a smooth fluid motion, with all the agility her class granted her, she was by my side.  
"Oh, but if you're going to feed my Master, however will you eat?" The predatory grin was back, and likely the disappointment from before had been a ruse, all for this purpose. With snake-like grace Rider's chopsticks flashed out to my plate, returning to just above Rider's palm up hand, held in the customary gesture for feeding another.  
"Now, Shirou - Say 'Ahhn'"

* * *

To say that my soul was on fire would be completely incorrect but remarkably accurate about how I felt. The heat generated by opening all twenty seven of my circuits and trying to force more prana than they could handle was in no way responsible for somehow conflagrating my spirit. That heat couldn't even really damage me anymore, considering that while normally the elevated temperature would boil the blood cooking the brain in its own fluids, my body only has a rudimentary facsimile of a human brain as a necessary requirement for my soul to enact motor functions, and is proven against temperatures in excess of two hundred degrees centigrade. No, temperature has nothing to do with the barely describable pain I'm feeling now. Six prana charged gems have just used my soul as a conduit into my wife, six gems that individually hold more prana than I can hope to generate in a month, all at the same time. There is a simple truth inherent to all magecraft. 'Magic beyond one's ability will kill you'. I have reached too far. My soul is tattered and burned. The massive surge of prana I attempted to channel has possibly ruined me. But none of this matters. Only the result is important. Only Sakura matters.

* * *

We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about the back porch, looking out over the garden in the back yard. Sakura sat in my lap her body conforming to my shape as we both enjoyed the warm rays of the sun in the autumn. Medusa is sitting by one of the support posts leaning against it while she reads a book. I look down at Sakura's purple hair, and relish the feeling as I stroke her hair. Everything about this day has been perfect, if I could bottle this moment and save it forever I would gladly give up my Reality Marble, I would happily relinquish those childish fantasies of heroism.

"And when does my wonderful husband plan to go back to work? I hear from Fujimura-san that some of his employees have been asking about your return. He says that they wouldn't let anyone else work on their bikes but you."  
With her face still turned to look out over the yard I considered Sakura's question, before nonchalantly replying.  
"Maybe tomorrow, or the day after. I want to make up for those three weeks I had to spend with that chain smoking Aozaki. I swear if I didn't know she was using her puppet bodies I would have expected she would have died of lung cancer ages ago."  
At that Medusa looked up from her book to voice her own opinion.  
"I just hope that she didn't offend your senses too much, what with her tragic sense of fashion. I thought magi these days were trying to keep themselves a secret. Those stocking boots of hers are so obvious the only way they could possible be worn is by magic."  
Sakura suppressed an evil giggle before replying.  
"Now, now, you're just jealous she wouldn't sell you a pair."  
Looking slightly caught off guard by the comment Rider quickly schooled her expression and then resumed reading. I simply smiled at the catty behavior and spoke what was on my mind.  
"I love you two."  
A synchronized reply of two melodious voices answered my statement.  
"I love you too."

The evening meal preparations were significantly less erotic than the last meal's, but ultimately ended up being far more appetizing. Sakura cooked a veritable feast, perhaps to make up for the meager showing at breakfast, presenting Rider and myself with a full five course meal fit for a five star restaurant. As I said before, Sakura takes cooking for me very very seriously. We ate and chatted about my recent trip, and I recounted for them the various minuta of the three weeks I had spent in Hong Kong. Most of that time I had spent working with Touko, adjusting the new body to my soul and testing the various features she had incorporated. Nothing too fancy I revealed, mostly just modifications that made the body itself more realistic. For one, I could sleep now, a feature I had sorely missed since losing my real body. Second, while my soul itself didn't seem to show my age, the new body had it's own method of aging affecting my soul's projection of my appearance in a manner that Touko had never been able to explain in a way I really understood. Nevertheless I now looked my actual age rather than my previous body's perpetual seventeen.

Sakura and Rider both seemed to share a small frown for a moment before they both nodded to each other and turned back to me asking for more details. Unsure of what unspoken agreement seemed to have passed between the two beautiful women, I obliged them as best I could. Sakura listened intently while I laid out as much of the theory as I could, but quickly became less interested before she asked me what else my new body could do. I gave her my best knowing smile before I spoke again.  
"Do you remember that conversation we had some time ago?"  
Cutely wrinkling her nose in confusion Sakura replied.  
"Husband, you need to be more specific."  
"Well, it had to do with a certain family persisting past just the three of us."  
My statement was met with wide eyed recognition as suddenly the room became very quiet.  
"You- You mean... You... We... Could- Could have children?"  
"Yes."  
With one simple word the mood at the table exploded, Sakura embedding herself in my chest, squeezing me for everything she was worth and crying with joy. I had prepared myself for any number of reactions to this news, but I still find myself wondering how I hadn't expected what response came next.  
"We start tonight. Rider is going to help too. She can be my co-mother."  
I think Rider choked on her food with the utterance. I say I think, because before I could get a chance to check Sakura kissed me with the passion of a woman possessed.

* * *

My first thought was surprise. Surprise that I was even thinking at all, because I was dead. I had reached for magic beyond my ability. I had acted as a conduit for forces I could not hope to handle. By all rights I should be dead, but I wasn't. It took me a moment to realize that my circuits were still thrumming with exertion, still funneling as much power as they could through the metaphysical link that Sakura and I shared. The link itself was fragile, possibly even damaged by the haphazard way I was giving Sakura my prana, but thankfully still there. That knowledge alone gave me comfort as I reached out with my spirit to the body that contained me. Slowly, painfully slowly, my spirit reconnected with my body finally allowing me to open my eyes and take in my surroundings.

* * *

Two flushed and exhausted women entwined themselves around my body, each trying to find the optimum position that would let them be in contact with as much as me as they could manage. Sakura had not been joking when she suggested we start tonight, demanding that I inseminate her a minimum of five times before I was allowed to stop for the evening. Her insistence that Rider join in and receive an equal amount of attention only ensured that I would have to thank Touko for the prana regulated fluid replenishment system she had insisted upon. Both women had the familiar daze of post cloital activities, and each was doing her best to nuzzle their way into my chest, expressions of contentment clear on their faces.

Rider was particularly cute, with her small wire frame glasses still perched primly on her face, and her adorable habit of curling into a ball trying to be as small as possible. I think more than anything else, Medusa was happy that my new body was taller than she was. Medusa's sister induced height complex was amusing at times but it was nice to know that a simple thing like her having to look up to me seemed to make her happy.

Sakura, never one to be outdone, was no less beautiful though, even when compared to a literal goddess. Her soft and ample breasts pressed up against my side, one leg straddling my own, Sakura was sexy, sweet, and perfect in every way I could imagine. Our bodies, slick with a thin sheen of sweat, were cooling in the night air, the covers of the futon thrown about the room, the smell of our lovemaking lingering in the cool air. I had thought the two tired women asleep until Sakura spoke.  
"Rider, today was perfect. Thank you. I have just one more favor to ask, you have to make sure my Husband here keeps his promise."  
Confusion, and a haunting sense of panic began to war with my post coital contentment. What exactly did Sakura mean?  
"I understand Master, I will do my best."  
The confusion was gaining metaphorical ground at an astonishing pace, and the panic loomed like an incoming tsunami. Why did they need to say this?

The flames of my growing apprehension was given more fuel when Sakura began to lift herself on top of me, her hands resting on my chest, to look straight in my eyes. Her stunning purple irises transfixed me with their gaze, and the pit of my stomach dropped like a bag of hammers. Something was wrong, very very wrong.  
"Husband, I want you to know, above all else, I will always love you. You were always my hero, my love, and I will always cherish our time together. I want you to know that every second I spent with you was the best moment of my life, every time you touched me, every time you loved me, I thought I had died and gone to heaven. When we first made love, I thought that I could die happy just knowing you had loved me, and now you've given me so much love that I never even dared to dream of. I love you so much, and I need you to know that you can't blame yourself for this. I forbid it. Sometimes, bad things happen. I'm just thankful that you could be here with me one last time, even if it's like this."  
"Wha-"  
"I'm so sorry Shirou, good bye."  
A pain on my chest like a branding iron against my skin followed Sakura's words, blurring the world and forcing my eyes closed with pain that seemed to bypass the flesh and strike at my very soul. I felt a pair of lips press against my own before the burning sensation overcame my senses and the world slipped out of focus.

* * *

Awareness flowed back into me with agonizing slowness. I was still by Sakura's side, but I could no longer feel our metaphysical connection. A long mechanical droning noise further reinforced the reality I desperately wanted to escape. On the table in front of me lay a dead woman. Her wounds were devastating, as if some angry giant had decided to grasp her by the legs and crush her lower body. One leg was effectively gone, mangled beyond all recognition. The other was broken almost as badly, with bone jutting from places in the thigh and shin. Sakura's hips were crushed, in my mind the uncomfortable analogy of an aluminium can brought bile I didn't even know I had rushing up my throat. Three ribs protruded from her lower ribcage, jutting out at angles that indicated that they were not the worst of the damage. Blood was everywhere. Almost as an afterthought I realized that all of Sakura's clothes were gone, but pieces of cloth were still stuck to her midsection. As I looked closer I understood that those pieces of cloth were the only things containing many of Sakura's internal organs. I could no longer contain the vile concoction that was evacuating my stomach, and I was forced to look away from the broken body of my wife as I vomited on the floor of the operating room.  
"Sir you have to leave. If you don't we will sedate you and have you removed."

For the first time I took notice of the staff of doctors and nurses that were staring at me in what I could only assume was abject horror. The masks made things difficult. Numbly I turned to look at the speaker, words tumbling from my mouth.  
"She's my wife."  
For a moment she seemed unable to respond, before she grabbed my arm and trying to lead me to the door.  
"There's nothing you can do here sir, please wait outside, let the doctors handle this."  
Her voice was as hollow as I expect mine was. She and I both knew, the woman on that table was dead, she had been dead when she was brought in, clinging to life by some miracle that medicine could not explain. I followed her direction out of the room, needing to escape the reality that lay on that table. I needed to wake up and know this was all some horrible nightmare. I needed Sakura.

As soon as I was led to the waiting area I was assaulted by a familiar face. Like a wild cat Fujimura Taiga pounced on me as I entered the hall. Her sobs briefly caught my attention before my head moved to take in the others silently watching with grim faces. Fujimura Raiga stood watching the scene, two bodyguards at his side, with an expression of sorrow that completely clashed with every memory of the man I had ever had. I wonder if my face looked at wooden as it felt at that moment, because even with Taiga crying into my chest I cannot bring myself to look at her.  
"I- I came as soon as I heard... Shirou, what- what happened?"  
Taiga's voice is cracked and strained, and she's still crying into my chest. I answer with the only thing that comes to mind.  
"I don't know."  
A voice that does not sound like my own escapes my throat. I see the nurse who escorted me here look uncomfortably at the assembled group of people, before speaking to me.  
"She- Your wife- was hit by a car that appears to have lost control while she was crossing the street. The majority of her injuries appear to have been caused by the vehicle crushing her after impact with a second vehicle. It- frankly it was a miracle she held out as long as she did."  
With the confirmation of Sakura's grievous state Taiga began bawling in earnest, her arms wrapped in a death grip around me. Across the room Fujimura Raiga's eyes narrowed as he asked a question.  
"And the driver of the vehicle?"  
"Killed in the crash."  
Raiga nodded, and turned to me, his eyes softening.  
"Boy, I can handle the paperwork here. You should go."  
Go? Go where? I had no idea what to do. Sakura wasn't home, and she never would be. Not anymore.

* * *

**Notes: **Yeah. I know I'm going to catch flak for this, but for the sake of the story this had to happen. Some of the reviewers called it, and I admit I did kind of give a bit more away with the classification and title of the fic than I would have liked to, but even so not many people seemed to guess it, and if you did congratulations. Now I know there will be a bunch of questions about a few things in this chapter so I'll take this space to see if I can preempt some of them.

1) Why kill Sakura? Well a happily married Shirou is unlikely to participate in the Sekirei plan. And other stuff that will be revealed as the story progresses

2) Where's Rider? Shirou has a new set of Command Seals on his chest. The exact Rider situation will be explained in Chapter 3

3) There were no Sekirei in this chapter. Yes, a necessary evil, as I wanted to resolve the question of what happened to Sakura from last chapter, the Sekirei will make an appearance again in chapter 3.

4) The Third Magic doesn't work that way. When you get right down to it, no it doesn't. But we have very little actual information about what exactly Illya did to Shirou and how much of the Third was really involved. I'm simply taking liberties in that department.

5) A dream? Really? Yes really. One of Rider's Noble Phantasms, Breaker Gorgon, lets her trap people in her mind, creating a dream that she controls (to a certain extent) here it works to allow Shirou and Sakura to have one last day together in the space of a few minutes, giving Sakura a chance to say goodbye.

6) What about Shirou's prana injection? Sometimes, a hero fails. Sometimes our best is not enough. In this case, there just wasn't enough prana. Remember Rin used a gem that stored ten years worth of prana to repair Shirou's heart, and that was with Avalon helping. Which will bring me to number seven.

7) But Sakura has infinite prana, she should be able to heal herself. Yes and No. Sakura has what is essentially an infinite well to draw from, but she is still limited by her circuit count for how much prana she can draw at any one time. The moment Sakura got injured the Crest Worms were funneling prana to try and repair her, but the extent of the damage made it impossible to do much more than prevent her instant death. This may seem at odds with events in the VN, but I remind you, at that time in the VN Sakura had more worms in her body and she had a connection to the grail as a lesser grail and was able to channel more prana.

I guess that's enough. Now, feel free to ask me questions about anything. And remember I love reviews.


	3. Chapter 3

Nine months. Fujimura Taiga frowned at the thought. Shirou, her Shirou, her little brother had not left his house in over nine months. The funeral of his wife was the last time anyone other than Taiga, Rin, or Luvia had seen the man. Taiga spared a moment to ruminate on those two, and the strange revelation it had been to find out that Tohsaka Rin was somehow Sakura's biological sister, and that she'd gotten a rich girlfriend of all things while studying in Britain.

Still, of the students she had taught Shirou continued to worry her most. He'd seemed to just shut down after Sakura's death, sitting in the main room of the house and refusing to do so much as move. Oftentimes she wondered if he was even eating or sleeping when she didn't have time to come by and force him. She still recalled with a sense of dread her attempts to get the man to go to work. As it stood it seemed like Shirou's garage would soon be run entirely by her father, Raiga.

Even so, Shirou was her little brother, perhaps not by blood but by the gods she had mooch- err, shared enough meals with the young man, and that had to count for something. Unfortunately for the both of them, Shirou's malaise had a rather negative impact on both of their dietary expectations, which is to say that for the past nine months take-out had been the word when it came to breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Unlocking the door to the Emiya compound, Taiga idly wondered where the last puzzle of the Emiya marriage had disappeared too. Now, Taiga knew what her students often thought of her, that she wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed or that her bombshell body and exuberant attitude meant that she wasn't very intelligent. Well Taiga knew those people were both wrong and possibly jealous of her feminine grace because not only was she quick on the uptake but she was very observant. True, in the three years she had been in and around the married couple's lives she had never once actually caught sight of the strange "other woman" she knew was there, it still bothered her. She'd found evidence of a third Emiya estate resident more than a hundred times over the years but it wasn't until after Sakura's death that the mysterious person seemed to truly matter.

She'd furiously confronted Shirou long ago when she first found a pair of women's apparel that would have never fit Sakura nor could she imagine the young woman actually consenting to wear some of the more... restraining accessories built into the thing. Shirou had looked more ashamed of the evidence than Taiga herself had before a beet red Sakura had come to claim the outfit and insisted that the whole thing had been her idea in the first place. While initially mollified, Taiga had still known that the outfit had been too large for the girl, and over time continued to find strong evidence of there being a second woman living in the house. She'd let the matter drop, but now with Sakura dead, and Shirou being completely unresponsive to the outside world she wished that mysterious woman would appear, if only to give Shirou the kick in the pants he needed to begin picking up the pieces of his life.

*Scene Break*

Medusa would have sighed, if she were still capable of breath. Instead she just continued to float in spiritual form slightly behind and to the left of Shirou. The man had not moved in four days and Medusa was running low on options. Since Sakura's death she had been confined to the barest minimum of manifestations, Shirou's circuits working their hardest to keep her anchored to the world but unable to manage much more. She was an Anti-Hero, a being of might and legend and at the moment she couldn't even manage a stiff wind. Insubstantial, intangible, invisible, and for all the world she was less than a shade, but her Sakura had entrusted her with Shirou and demanded that she ensure he fulfilled his promise and for her failure to guard Sakura, she would not let Shirou out of her sight- metaphorically. With the loss of her ability to manifest physically she was once more forced to don Breaker Gorgon to ensure the passive prana expenditure that was her mystic eyes did not further cripple her Master.

"Shirou. You have not eaten in days. You have not slept either. I am aware your continued support of my existence puts you in some degree of discomfort, but you must do something. Taiga will be arriving shortly. If you do not remove the trash she will discover that you have not moved since her last visit. At the very least you should bathe, while my astral form is unable to smell you I can safely say you are in dire need of soap."

Medusa was not lost in the irony of being the most verbose participant in a conversation. Shirou had been silent for so long after her death that at first Medusa worried that Shirou was unable to hear her. Those fears had been allayed one evening not two months ago when Shirou had turned to look directly at her astral form and asked a question that had thoroughly disturbed her, and confirmed some of her other fears.

"Why can't I die?" Shirou had been pleading with her then, asking a question Medusa had been forced to contemplate after observing Shirou firing all twenty seven of his circuits non-stop for nearly seven months. Impossible was the only word Medusa could use to describe it. Since then she had convinced Shirou that she could subsist on just twenty-three of his circuits active at any one time, and while it was certainly true that she could she did not enjoy being unable to enact even the most minor exertions of force upon the world. She couldn't even read anymore without Shirou to turn the pages for her and the man was still entirely too sullen to do anything. The decreased strain on his circuits did however have something of a positive side effect.

Medusa had been worried at first, when Shirou had been straining himself and his circuits. His skin had grown an unhealthy shade of brown, his hair had greyed and his eyes when he opened them were entirely too metallic in color. It did not escape her how similar to Archer he appeared, nor was she entirely unaware of the circumstances of Archer himself. She had long ago worked out that somehow a Hero from the future had been summoned, and that in all likelihood Shirou was that hero. She had thought the future that had birthed that Shirou, that Anti-Hero, had been averted when Shirou cast his childhood fantasy aside to pursue Sakura.

Medusa found herself wondering if she was capable of preventing that future in her current state, but that worry soon fell by the wayside when Shirou stopped straining his circuits so hard, his skin tone returning nearly to normal, slightly darker by a shade, with the grey in his hair now looking more like the natural course of aging for a man twenty years his senior. Shirou's eyes though, they returned entirely to normal, a fact Medusa was grateful for more than even she wished to admit to herself. Those eyes had been one of the first things she had noticed about Shirou, when she had finally been able to look at the world without Breaker Gorgon restraining her sight.

Of course, thanks to Breaker Gorgon her only real source of information about Shirou's current appearance came from Taiga's regular weekly visits.

*Scene Break*

Taiga opened the door and was immediately assaulted by the stench of week old takeout, and an unwashed Shirou left for who knows how long brooding in his own mess. It broke her heart to see him like this, and Taiga wanted nothing more than to just hug him until everything was all better, but as he was, Taiga was worried she might choke on his stench before she got close.

"Shirou, I know I'm a guest but please, take a bath. I'll try to clean up around here and we can eat dinner like we used to, ok?" Taiga waited a moment at the invisible boundary that separated the entrance from the main room, hoping for something, any sort of verbal response. Instead Shirou stood like a poorly made marionette, shoulders hunched and plodded into the bathroom down the hall. Taiga's enthusiasm and attempt at casual demeanor rapidly evaporated as she looked around the room, keen eye digesting the fact that a thin layer of dust had sprouted everywhere Shirou hadn't been.

That dust covered everything but the small space Shirou had been sitting earlier. He even left footprints in his trek to the washroom, a fact that slightly boggled Taiga until she realized that Shirou just hadn't moved from his spot since the last time the room had been cleaned. Taiga felt the icy chill of realization as she remembered herself cleaning the last time she had been here, eight days ago.

Guilt, anger, frustration, and fear warred for Taiga's emotional response to this realization, simply knowing that if her observations were correct the take out containers left on the table from previous meals had in fact been there since last week. More pressing was the fact that Shirou, her kid brother was doing his level best to kill himself by inaction. Everything about that idea made her boil with rage, her impotence in the face of her little brother's despair fueling her own depressive thoughts before failing before her white phosphorous-like temper. This could not stand- and Taiga knew just the people she needed to call to this intervention.

Quietly trashing the week old boxes Taiga set the new food onto the table, and navigated towards the kitchen. The phone was nearly buried behind the now disused cutlery but nearby a small phone book held the information she sought. Rin's number was easy to find, and even with the United Kingdom country code it took barely ten seconds to enter the number into her new cell phone. She couldn't call now, with the time difference Taiga doubted the other woman would pick up if she didn't know the number. Thus she resolved to call once she'd looked up what time roughly equalled the late afternoon in England.

Plan firmly in mind she set about mentally preparing the necessary guest list. Ayako and Issei should still be attending university, but that was a short train ride away so it was hardly an inconvenience. Her father would be difficult to convince, given that his stance thus far had been to "let the man grieve over his wife in peace" but even he couldn't turn a blind eye to his adoptive grandson grieving himself to death in this empty home. No, the irate old man would come, and if she knew her father he would hatch some scheme to make Shirou get back to work. That would be a step in the right direction at least.

Shirou took his time, but eventually returned washed and looking somewhat more alive than he had when she'd arrived. He retook his seat, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. Taiga saw no need to resist her inclination to hug the man in a bear crushing embrace. Shirou showed no outward sign of it but Taiga was positively certain that he was grateful for the contact. Placing the takeout boxes on the table (chinese, she'd passed by this wonderful smelling place advertising the spiciest mapo tofu ever made, her curiosity demanded she try it) she pushed the meal she'd bought for the man to his side of the table, noting with curiosity the strange face he makes when he opens the box. Pausing for just a moment while breaking his chopsticks, Shirou almost seems as if he's mumbling something.

Oh well, its better than him being completely silent as he's taken to being. Knowing that conversation would be her job yet again this meal Taiga quickly gave thanks for the food and began to dig in, periodically scrambling desperately for more water from the kitchen. Damn, those people down in Taishan hadn't been joking about the spice!

*Scene Break*

Medusa listens to the scene with no small amount of mirth, inexpressible in her current form though it may be. Shirou's half hearted mumbling brings a small light of hope into Medusa's ghostly essence, Shirou had been far too silent for far too long. Still it confused her slightly how that priest being back to haunt him and the appearance of the aromatic dish in front of him could be related. Perhaps the priest had caused him some harm with the dish?

No matter. With Taiga's arrival also comes the welcome break in the monotony of her vigil over Shirou. Taiga would bring news of the others in Shirou's life, of what was happening outside in the world. Truth be told Medusa was something of a homebody, she knew, but even then she had revelled in her freedom to go out and speak with other people. It wasn't until she was once again confined to a single place that she was reminded of her monstrous past.

But Taiga's visits helped, both for her own sanity and for Shirou's. Shirou was slowly beginning to ask questions. They were short, and always to the point, but it was still a marked improvement from his previous behavior. Taiga would talk and talk until she was blue in the face when she first made regular visits in the wake of the funeral, but Shirou would remain as conversational as a brick. Now, Shirou occasionally greeted Taiga when she entered, ask a token question about Raiga or his garage, he even once inquired about Ayako and her university studies. It wasn't much, but it was progress- of a sort. Medusa was still certain that Shirou was self destructive, his eating habits proved it to her. Had he truly been human his body would have died of thirst within that first month. Instead it seemed that Touko's craftsmanship had given Shirou a body impervious to simple dehydration or hunger.

Amidst these thoughts Taiga's voice rang like a warning bell, chiming the imminent doom of an approaching army.

"-and then the Director was so impressed with my English that he offered me a promotion! Regional supervisor for a new school district in Shin Tokyo! Can you imagine? Me, in charge of a whole city's English education department. Raiga says he'd prefer that I stay with him in his twilight years but he can't fool me, he's still just as spry as he was fifteen years ago. He's probably worried about those rumors the other bosses' have been on about. Still, its a rather moot point. I can't just pack up and leave my family." -at least not while you're like this, went Taiga's unspoken regret.

Medusa felt both relief and guilt for Taiga's decision, Taiga's regular contact was helping Shirou recover, she knew, but it was also obvious that this was a rather large step forward for the woman. Few female teachers reached administrative work in Japan, most opting to be career teachers or marriage and subsequent homemaking. Taiga passing on this opportunity would likely stall her career permanently. Still it came as a surprise when Shirou spoke up, the barest hint of anger in his voice.

"Fuji-nee, you should take the job. You can't let yourself be held up on account of …"

"IDIOT! The first time in nine months that you string more than six words together and you're telling me you're fine?! LIKE HELL! You're my precious little brother, and I'll stick with you until you get up off your lazy bum and return to the land of the living!" Taiga accentuates her point by slamming her hand down on the table, wincing at the impact.

Medusa judges from the slight difference in where Shirou's voice originates that his head is hanging low when he replies.

"I've been very selfish. I'm sorry." Is that the sound of a teardrop striking tabletop? Taiga must have been so stunned by Shirou's words she dropped her spoon, because the clatter of plastic striking curry is the only thing Medusa can hear, aside from both person's heartbeats. The sudden silence is broken by the crack of a palm against cheek as Taiga connects solidly with Shirou's face. Safe in the knowledge that in spiritual form only the bearer of her command seals can hear her Medusa remarks, "You deserved that."

"YOU COLOSSAL IDIOT! Don't sit here in the house you won't leave, eating food for the first time in however long you've been starving yourself for, and tell me you'd be fine if I left. I raised you better than to lie like that you... you... IDIOT." In spite of her fury Taiga's voice broke into a sob as she finished, reaching forward across the table to pull Shirou's sitting form into a hug squeezing for all she's worth.

"I'm sorry." Is all that Shirou seems to be able to reply with. Even still the flicker of emotion in his voice, the sheer volume of words he has spoken and the fact that Medusa can hear the soft pat of Shirou's hand against Taiga's back in a comforting gesture all are signs of Shirou making some sort of recovery.

Medusa listens to the pair, embracing in grief and pain. Shirou was making progress, and while it frustrated her that she could only verbally contribute, it pleased her all the same that it was happening at all.

*Scene Break*

Sahashi Takami was not known among her circle of peers to be a very outgoing woman. Even so the past nine months had seen Takami almost in isolation in the lower lab floors of the towering MBI building that dominated the Shin Tokyo skyline. There had been a commotion not unlike a mound of ants after being kicked when Karasuba, the number zero four and head of the Disciplinary Squad, was brought in unconscious and with a head injury that would have deactivated her had she been winged at the time. Many MBI employees speculated that some new American or Chinese government weapon had been used in the airport, but with Karasuba in a recuperative coma and Takami steadfastly avoiding any and all questions it seemed that the mystery of the now dubbed "Airport Incident" would have to wait.

And wait it did, for after three months Karasuba awoke and promptly proceeded to utterly annihilate her recovery room. The glacial looks she shot anyone that even attempted to speak to her left the researchers with little hope that asking what had actually happened would end without bloodshed. Even stranger was the fact that Karasuba, well known for her intense bouts of homicidal zeal was being unusually reluctant about taking revenge. Most MBI personnel had set up a running betting pool of which country would be blamed for the injury and to what extent the damages would be after Karasuba awoke. Bets ranged from major capitals being razed to Karasuba visiting unholy devastation upon politicians and civilians indiscriminately. Karasuba doing none of those things somehow scared the researchers even more.

Sahashi Takami would have cared about these events had she not been struggling with her own crisis in the wake of that fateful airport encounter. Every test, every scan, every computer analysis of the tiny drop of blood taken from the tip of Karasuba's sword told her the same thing. Emiya Shirou and Sahashi Minato had a ninety nine point nine nine seven percent match for the entirety of their available genetic sample. Hair fibers taken from Minato's old clothes had been checked against Shirou's blood, and later after a comprehensive sweep of the interrogation room at the airport skin samples and hair follicles all gave Takami conclusive evidence that Emiya Shirou was Sahashi Minato.

Sahashi Takami's only son, whom she had thought dead in a fire nearly fifteen years prior, had suddenly not been dead all along. And she had stopped looking. That thought more than anything else haunted her. She had gone to Fuyuki, desperate that her parent's house was still there, still safe, with Minato there. She had found instead a burned out husk, collapsed under it's own weight, charred black from the heat and the soot. Officials at the scene had told her that her parents house had been only one block from the epicenter of "the event", the only words they knew to describe the unbelievable conflagration that had burst forth from Fuyuki City Hall that night. Reports from the fire department said that the fire had burned so hot that City Hall had still been ablaze three days later. Her parents house had transformed into rubble and ash by the time firefighters had been able to access it.

They had told her that any bodies left had likely burnt to ash. They had told her the only survivors had been pulled from blazing homes nearly four blocks from City Hall. They had told her her son was dead, and she'd believed them. She'd given up hope and gone home, she had told little Yukari her brother wouldn't be coming home and she had crawled into her bed and sobbed until she couldn't feel anything any more. She'd thrown herself into her work trying desperately to forget, to move forward, to do anything but feel the pain of losing her only son because she had sent him away. It was supposed to have been a simple chicken pox vaccination, it was supposed to work, MBI had spent millions on the damn thing, but then Minato had started to get a fever and Yukari was just too young, too small, for her to catch it.

She had sent him to her parents and for the past fifteen years she'd hated herself for it. For letting Minaka talk her into letting Minato into the test trial, for sending him away, and now, brand new tidal waves of guilt assailed her for having given up so easily. She hadn't checked the hospitals herself, instead just searching the registries, because she'd listened to professionals, to people who supposedly knew what they were talking about. And because she'd done that, she'd lost her son.

He was still alive, yes, but she had not been there for any of the important parts of his life. He'd lived all that time, he'd grown into a fine man, gotten married, and she had been there for none of it. Guilt warred with anger for control of Takami's life with each month that the tests returned from the lab as a match. She'd even taken to running the tests herself, checking the tests herself, and in one particularly guilt filled week performing sequence alignments by hand. The evidence was staring at her even now, as the luminescent display screen continued it's silent condemnation of her parental neglect.

In stunningly high resolution, over one meter of display showed the web site Shirou had directed her too in that cramped airport security room. Standing next to his wife, grinning like an idiot, was her son. Grease splattered on his clothes, some unidentifiable tool in his hand, his wife smiling gently to the camera. Her son, married to such a beauty! With that thought another wave of guilt inevitably followed, because Takami knew that Emiya Sakura had died on the operating table that night.

It was trivial to pull the hospital records, and it had been heartbreaking to read. The poor girl had been crushed between a small van and a neighborhood wall when the driver, a drunk office worker, had fallen asleep at the wheel. She had somehow clung to life for over an hour, missing blood and crushed organs, only passing after her husband had somehow made it to her side.

Takami still could not understand how that had happened. Shirou had somehow left the airport so fast that he registered as little more than a blur on the security cameras. Topping that he had struck Karasuba so hard the alien had fractured her skull. Sekirei biology was still an enigma in certain fields but Takami knew herself that nothing short of two tons accelerating at no less than twenty-five meters per second squared could cause a broken bone in an unwinged Sekirei. It still baffled Takami that somehow the winging process affected Sekirei stress tolerances, but nonetheless if Shirou's body was moving nearly as fast as his fist needed to in order to cause harm to a Sekirei the g-forces should have killed him within a minute.

But if the report that Shirou had been at his wife's bedside when she died was accurate, that meant that Shirou had somehow sprinted out of the airport and across over one hundred and sixty kilometers in under nine minutes. That was simply beyond superhuman, hell it was beyond the Sekirei, and the Sekirei didn't seem to follow any logic for what limited them. It simply didn't make sense.

The only shred of hope for insight as to why her son Minato had somehow sprouted superpowers was the consistent anomaly that arose when she compared the samples that remained of Minato and the samples procured from Shirou's interrogation room. That tiny fraction, only three thousandths of a percent, held the key, she knew it. So she had spent the last month and a half meticulously combing through every MBI database she had access to trying to find clues.

*Scene Break*

When she did, it took a high powered alien force field generator meant for atmospheric reentry to stop her from throttling Minaka. Even then, she gave herself second degree burns on her hands trying. Minaka sat there in his infuriating high back chair, grey-white hair swept to one side with his square framed glasses somehow shining with an inner light, making his eyes practically invisible. AR prototype? The scientist in Takami asked, before her righteous indignation overwhelmed everything else and she chucked her ever present clipboard at his smug bastard face.

"I WILL KILL YOU, YOU VILE BASTARD!" Takami's screech might have been audible from the adjacent floors of the MBI tower if Minaka hadn't been carefully observing Takami's workstation and thus engaged the silencing shields in his office the moment she'd arrived.

"Now now, calm down Takamin~"

"Calm? You want Calm? Fine, I'm going to calmly rip your tongue out through your asshole you son of a bitch!"

"My my, so angry. What have I done now? I've been so kind as to put my Plan on hold while you worked on your personal issues- what more do you want of me?"

"YOU. USED. MY. SON! That vaccine- it was never a vaccine! You tested some sort of retrovirus on him!"

"Hmmm? And?"

Takami tried to express her indignation, her fury, her hatred for Minaka at that moment, but all that escaped her throat was a strangled scream as she flung herself across his obscenely large desk and did her level best to crush the man's windpipe with her bare hands. The harsh burn of the interlocking hexagons that formed the energy barrier just centimeters from his skin repelling her efforts. In spite of this, Takami pressed forward, growling her hatred as Minaka stared impassively.

"My, we haven't been this close since the last time little Minato was the topic of conversation." Minaka's voice, level and even, hit Takami like a freight train.

"I believe you told me then how I should, ah thats right 'stay the hell out of your lives' I believe. I've simply abided by your wishes Takami-chan."

"You knew... You knew he was alive, and you DIDN'T TELL ME!" Incredulity swiftly shifted back into anger as Takami, unable to properly strangle the horrible excuse for a man in front of her, decided instead to scream at the top of her lungs.

"Knew? Nothing of the sort, I suspected that if the treatment had worked the boy would be more resilient, but this- this exceeds even my wildest expectations! Little Minato was able to strike a Sekirei, incapacitate her even! His ancestral Sekirei lineage must have stabilized the artificial core. Simply marvelous!"

Takami, now wild eyed and furious, was struck speechless. This man, this horrible vile man had tinkered with her son's genes, his body, for what? For some sort of superhuman program derived from the Sekirei? What had he meant by Sekirei lineage? Why couldn't she strangle him, why had the universe conspired to put this madman in his position of unassailable power?

"I swear to any god that's listening, I will kill you for this Minaka. I swear it." Finding her voice, Takami croaked out her final ultimatum only to be met with that same infuriatingly calm voice. The voice Minaka only uses in private with those who know that the goofy eccentric genius is nothing more than an illusion.

"Now now, you know that if you do kill me I'll take half the country with me. Including those precious Sekirei you've spent so much of your life on. I've got bigger problems trying to kill me and take my empire, but if you like I can turn my attention on you, and your family. Yukari is attending University this year isn't she? And little Minato just lost his wife, such a shame. Takami-chan, for people that I find threatening there are fates worse than death that can easily be arranged, and I have had a great deal of practice after that debacle with the Americans. Anyone can disappear overnight, and you would never cease to be amazed at what a ludicrous amount of money can spur people to do, but Takami-chan somewhere deep down I still love you, so I won't do anything horrible to you- not ever. Just don't give me reason to do something we'll both regret to people that aren't you."

Takami knew that Minaka had gone crazy somewhere down the line, but this, this was insane. Slowly she backed out of the madman's office, that infuriating smile never fading from his face. Distantly she realized that this meeting was worse than a disaster, it was a possible herald of the god-damned apocalypse. Minaka was too far gone, and worse yet too powerful with his multinational conglomerate wielding alien technology to be left alone. But no one had noticed. Minaka had reached critical mass long ago and now it was only the countdown to his insanity going supernova.

"Oh and Takami-chan? You're still needed in the Sekirei project, so do please contribute, it would be a shame if I had to resort to taking hostages but I'm not above it." Minaka fires his final warning shot as Takami nearly stumbles out of the office, dazed and feeling more terrified than she ever has in her life.

* * *

Yeah, so, yeah. I'm not the most regular or reliable updater I will admit, but this is sort of embarrassing me. This chapter should have been out months ago, I profess, but the Minaka/Takami interaction just kept falling flat. I'm trying to keep the whole fic to the Heaven's Feel vibe, what with previous big bads jobbing it up (Karasuba's glass jaw/skull), Uncomfortable family realizations (Minaka isn't friendly insane, he's balls-to-the-wall scary insane), depressing moments (maybe too many of those...), and characters getting to really show off what they can do (Shirou wrecking face).

Now, about some of the exposition- Yes in this fic Shirou is a little more than human, in a number of ways. The Third Magic has done something to his soul he still is only vaguely aware of, Touko's replacement body is way above human norms when prana's actively flowing through it, and last but not least- Shirou's Reality Marble gets a better reason for existing than "he's broken". Seriously if every mentally ill person with decent magic circuits had the potential to manifest a mystery almost on par with True Magic there would be a lot more than six recorded instances of a Human with a Reality Marble. Yes, that does mean that Sekirei themselves have a power akin to Reality Marbles and as such makes them a little more in line with the other known Aliens in the T-M universe. It also serves my purposes to make the Sekirei more of a legitimate threat to Shirou and other magi in the fic.

In the next chapter expect an Intervention courtesy of Taiga, and Karasuba asks "What is love?"


End file.
